Ok, so this may seem a weird concept: the dairy of Lord Voldemort in which he sounds more like a teenage girl than the terrifying Dark Lord. But give it a chance and you might like it.
Ingredients - Random plot, Voldemort, Wolfbane, Harry Potter, Salamander slime and a pinch of comedy. Warning, may contain slight HP4 spoilers.
Disclaimer - I do not own Voldemort or Harry Potter but I do own some other weird characters who were released into the wild (placed into the story) including Quentin and Damien Brittlebinns.
The Diary of Lord Voldemort
Hi, my name is Voldemort. I would say that my friends call me voldie-baldie, but I don't actually have any friends. Well, there is this group called the 'Death Eaters' that follow me about and kill people 'in my name' and stuff like that but they're not really friends. I did want a friend, y'know, someone to discuss Lost with and someone who knows me so well that they can finish my sentences but I just couldn't find any one who even came close to my power level. No-one understands me.
Anyhow, this is my diary (you may have guessed) and I would like to welcome you to it. Included is a fake tattoo in the shape of the dark mark for those wannabe 'Death eaters' out there. In this diary are some of my most private and intimate thoughts so don't tell anyone what you read! You are very privileged to have this insight into my mind!
And so it begins:
June 3rd 21.12 pm
Ahhhhhhh! Darn that stupid Harry Potter boy! Why is he so lucky! That was possibly my most humiliating defeat ever, not that I am defeated very often.
It all happened last night…the plan was going smoothly. The Port key was in place. Everyone was clueless, I had them fooled. Ok, there was a little hitch with that other boy touching the trophy but a part from that it was going smoothly. Then that stupid, stupid, STUPID Harry Potter got lucky and it turns out that our wands, kind of…clash. So he got away. But I'm not giving up there. I'm gonna get him and get back my reputation as the unbeatable Dark Lord!
So I've spent today planning and plotting but I wont write my ideas down yet as they're still at the baby stage. Soon, after the rocky adolescent plan stage, they should mature into nice juicy adult plans. Harry Potter wont know what's hit him.
22.45 pm
Just been woken up by Nagini whining and hissing. Don't know what's up with her, she's not normally like this. Maybe she needs milking.
It wouldn't normally bother me anyway 'cause before I got my body I didn't need sleep. But now I have to endure the annoying muggle-ish activity of sleep just so my brain (which by the way is still growing to its normal size, hence, throbbing pain) can refresh itself.
22.51 pm
Nagini wont shut up…gonna go and see what's up.
23.28 pm
Something strange is going on. I went down to see what was causing Nagini to go so crazy. I went down the hallway, down the creaking stairs and crossed the hallway to the kitchen. (I must say that Quentin did an abismal job of preparing this temporary residance - I kept finding little white creatures on the walls that had three black holes for eyes). Anyhow, I entered the kitchen to find poor Nagini squirming on the floor with a great big knife gash down her side and steamy, fresh blood trickling onto the floor. I ran out of the back door but whoever had done it was gone.
My first thought was that a muggle had done it. Why- I didn't know, maybe they disliked giant snakes, but I assumed that because of the knife gash. Surely a wizard would have used a wand. But then it occurred to me that the wound was fresh, not more than a few minutes old and Nagini had been whining for at least half an hour. Whoever it was must have been trying to get something from Nagini…or trying to talk to her.
June 4th 8 am
I've got it! If someone was trying to talk to Nagini then they must have been a parcel tongue. Y'know, a snake mouth, an envolope lip. So it must have been a wizard. Surely not..no, no, it wouldn't have been that little fool Harry Potter. I would have sensed him. Who else is a parcel tongue?… (ow..fungus! I just bit my lip!) …Yeah, anyhow, parcel- Damien Brittlebinns! He's a parcel tongue! Right. I'm going to have to pay him a little visit.